Conversations in the Dark
“I love my country. Not with the fireworks you seem to need to display,” he hissed, “but no less for all of that.”
“A quieter sort of fervor, then.”
Perhaps he was mollified, despite the mocking tone. Or perhaps he had regained control over his emotions. “Yes, as you like.”
The entire situation was ridiculous. Why was he debating this at —he glanced at the green glow of his watch— three in the morning? It was perhaps the lack of oxygen. After six hours the air had become dangerously stuffy. Or perhaps it was the dark, which was a deeper black than any he had shared with Klaus before.
“A strange sort of loyalty, from a perverted thief.”
Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was the fact that Klaus seemed almost desperate for an argument tonight.
“Major, as much as I love the way your dulcet voice insults me, perhaps we shouldn’t be talking?”
A momentary silence, and he wondered if he had won. If this time he had gotten the last word.
“Is this all it takes to shut you up? I never noticed locking you in a room to have any effect before.”
Exasperation won out over anger. “Perhaps because you could never quite bring yourself to shut off my air supply. What on earth are you trying to do, Major?”
This time the silence was longer, and he wished he could see the man’s face.
“You always seem to get such enjoyment out of provoking me,” Klaus replied. His voice was as abrupt and angry as ever. “I thought I would return the favor for once.”
“Oh, Klaus…. Just for me?”
“Shut up, thief.”
“…How long do you think we—“
“Long enough. Shut up.”
“Well, since you ask so nicely…”
“And stay on your side of the room! I see you creeping towards me with perversions in your eyes.”
Dorian laughed, laughed like they were in Rome, running through the streets and pursued by an enraged Italian cop, laughed like they were in China, racing in a broken-down helicopter just ahead of the Enforcers, laughed like they were in South Africa, with a besotted lioness intent on becoming the outraged Major’s newest conquest.
“Major, darling, I think you’re starting to hallucinate already. Would you like me to creep over your way?”
“And I am very patriotic! I’ll have you know that I returned the Crown Jewels seven times! …And I only borrowed them five!”
“Quiet! I hear something.”
“Perhaps. If so, those sad excuses for men are quicker than usual.”
“Maybe Bonham came along again.”
“If the dashing rescue is here, I don’t suppose I could take a little nap?”
“…NO! Stay awake, thief!
“Earl! …Gloria! Damnit, Gloria…
Note: The ending was meant to be more open to interpretation. I over-dramatacised it, I'm afraid.